


Blaming Sam

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-28
Updated: 2002-02-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of theWest Wing Fanfiction Central, a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in theannouncement post.





	Blaming Sam

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Blaming Sam**

**by:** Sassy Susan 

**Disclaimer:** Norman and Shelley are mine, Josh, Donna and anyone else from the west wing are not. Not making any money from this.......yada ya, you know the drill. 

**Category:** Romance/Humour, Josh/Donna

**Spoilers:** Some little ones for season 2 and some very vague ones for season 1.

**Rating:** PG-13 for a bit of swearing. But nothing major. 

**Author's Note:** This is my 2nd fic and the sequal to 'Norman, 20 Minutes and Knocking Out Sam's Teeth'. After my rather cruel ending everyone was screaming for the next part. So, fearing a mob of angry readers at my front door, I wrote it. And also a huge a thankyou to Abby who agreed to beta this fic, despite my appauling abuse of the english language. 

I wish I could have a bigger hangover than this. 

Yeah, sounds weird to me too. I's not something everyone wants when they wake up feeling like crap after almost a whole bottle of vodka. But of course not everyone had the night I did. 

Not everyone went on a blind date with a guy that, if God had any sense of justice, would have been locked up for being an obnoxious jerk long ago. Not everyone then came home to the a partial, yet equally scary phone call with Sam Seaborn. Not everyone listens as your boss's best friend mistakenly relays to you that said boss might be in love with you. 

Of course, not everyone probably staggers into the kitchen, slides down the refridgerator and proceeds to pour neat, cheap and crappy vodka into their system. And I highly doubt that everyone else is the assistant to the Deputy White House Chief of Staff. 

Therefore, I wish I had a bigger hangover now. Not enough to put me in a coma, just enough to erase the memory of the last 24 hours from my mind. 

However, I also wish I could summon the will and strength to turn my body, or at least my head. That way I won't be keeping my face pushed into the pillow. That way I won't be suffocating myself. Coffee, aspirin and a sense of well-being would be good too. 

And for the love of all things sacred will someone please have the marching band lined up and shot! Y'know, the one playing in the living room? Or is that in my head? It's hard to tell at times like this. 

"Donna?" 

Shelley. Shelley, Shelley, Shelley. This is all your fault. You did this to me. 

"Get out." 

Ok, I know for a fact that came out as 'Gwessshen oret' so now I have to move my head. 

"What?" 

"I said get out." 

"Hungover?" 

"Get out." 

"You brought this upon yourself Donna." 

"No. You did. Get out." 

"Excuse me? Did I sit and force the alcohol down your throat? No, I don't think I did." 

"Get out." 

"What happened?" 

"You happened. You and your whole blind date.....thingy." 

"Thingy?" 

"Get out." 

"You didn't like Norman, did you?" 

"Give her a prize." 

"Why didn't you like him?" 

"I met him." 

She obviously never met him either. If she had, knowing Shelley as I do, she would've gone and brought savage rotweilers to rip Norman's throat out if he ever came near me or our apartment. 

Hey, if I don't get a good explaination from Sam I might do that anyway. Yeah, I'll just give them Sam's scent on a cloth and wait for them to bring back his vocal chords. 

Of course, I don't even have to get the dogs. CJ might do it on request. 

Or maybe I'll just take a tip from Toby and shove the end of Sam's tie into the paper shredder. Funny story. But better for another time. 

"Fine, but it's almost 7 Donna." 

"Get out." 

"Ok, but we're gonna have a long talk later about how this is not my fault." 

"Get Out!" 

"I'm going. But Donna, if you find a strange man walking about our place don't freak out. That's Dave." 

"Who's Dave?" 

"A guy I met last night." 

"Slut." 

"Assistant." 

"What happened to Tom?" 

The fact that she shrugged just then should give you an indication on what Shelley is like with men. 

"Ok, now get out." 

"Later." 

I could call in sick. But then I'd only get Josh calling every 5 minutes. 

'Donna, where's the file?' 

'Donna, I can't find the thing.' 

'Donna, the temp's a bitch.' 

'Donna, Sam and I almost burnt the White House down.' 

Sam. 

Yes, I think we all know whose fault this really is. Although, he isn't making it easy for me. 

So far I have established that, in Sam's world, there are reason's stating that Josh is in love with me. That's my boss, Joshua Lyman, is in love with me, Donnatella Moss, but this is Sam. Let me remind you that Sam is the one who 'accidentally' managed to sleep with a hooker, but unless, he was drunk, high or making it up I don't think he was talking about anyone else. 

Ok, I'm thinking I should go in to work today. If only to avoid constant harrassment and to see the look on Sam's face. First, let's buy some time, because there is no way I can stagger in like this in about 45 minutes. 

"Shelley." 

She heard me. 

"Shelley." 

I know she did. 

"Shelley." 

"What? Donna you're still in bed." 

"I know, that's why I was calling." 

"Phone Josh yourself" 

"Shelley" 

"No." 

"PLEASE." 

"Do it yourself." 

"Please, look, my legs won't work, my lungs are crushed and my head feels like someone stuck a fork in it." 

"Donna, please. Visuals." 

"Please call him." 

"Ok, what shall I tell the big boss man." 

"That I'm not well and I'll be in late." 

"Ok, I'm going." 

Ok, so I have a little more time before I have to face, what looks to be, the day from hell. 

I'm blaming Sam. 

One day I'm going to do a poll of all male White House employees. The question is gonna be: 'What is the single scariest thing you could withness upon arriving to work?' I predict now that at least 85% of them would say CJ Cregg coming to kick 10 shades of crap out of them, for being stupid. Not me. 

No, because I've already got the scariest thing outside my office. I've already seen the scariest thing. It's Donna's desk. Minus Donna. 

It's just not natural. Every single day that woman has worked for me she has always arrived before me. Whether that's because she's obsessively punctual or I because I have the timekeeping of a gnat with a rubbish watch, I don't know. But it doesn't change the fact that she is always here by 8:15 at the latest. I walked in at 8:30, she was not here. It's almost 9 and still, she is not here. 

At first I thought she might have started working already, but apparently not. Her coat is not here and nobody has seen her yet. I checked. 

Bonnie, Ginger and Carol just shrugged. Either they don't know or don't particulary care. Which is worrying because they're supposed to be her friends and do the whole worrying thing that women always do when one of their 'sisters' are in need. Unless, they do know where she is, but aren't telling me. 

Cathy doesn't know either. When I asked if she was sure she just glared, which was enough encouragement for me to get out of there. Although, I did manage to grab the box of pins off her desk as I left. Sam will be grateful. 

Sam, for some reason, just squealed and ran off. Don't ask, because I don't know. 

Toby is gearing up to go into battle with CJ over something and therefore does not care. CJ is doing exactly the same and therefore does not have time to care. Get under the desks and bolt down the furniture, because whatever it is, it's gonna be big. 

Margaret, unlike the others, over-reacted totally. She marched straight into Leo's office, announced Donna was missing and demanded that the FBI got involved. Leo told her to get out. She did. 

So then, as a last resort, I found myself standing on a desk and yelling accross the bullpen. All I got for my trouble was some half-hearted negative response and Leo yelling, as he passed, to stop destroying government property or have a Latin quiz with the president. I got down. 

Maybe, just maybe, I might be overeacting. She probably ran out of gas on her way in. But I can't help thinking, what if it's not that? What if it's more? 

Donna could've been in a car accident. She could be lying in a hospital right now because some jerk plowed his tank of a car into hers. I've seen her car. I've been in her car. It's not going to protect her! 

What if it wasn't even an accident ? What if her date did something to her? He could've been anyone. 

This is D.C, we got some strange people living here! People who get their kicks in very strange ways. Norman Bates wannabes, occasionally Lord Marbury, Sam, Republicans............the list goes on! 

I should call the police, have this guy arrested! If this Norman touched her, God have mercy on him, because when I'm done with him........ 

Phone! Phone! Phone! Phone! She's ok. That'll be her now. She's sorry but her crappy car broke down. 

"Josh Lyman." 

"Josh, it's Shelley." 

Donna's roomate. Oh what's wrong. And where did all the saliva go from my mouth? 

"Oh?" 

Oh god, something happened. She's calling aout Donna. Something happened. 

"It's about Donna." 

Oh god, she's hurt. Donna's in hospital. Sam will have to take some meetings and I need to tell Leo where I'm going. I have to get to the hospital.............. 

"Donna's going to be late today." 

What? 

"What?" 

Tell me again, I couldn't hear you over my own pulse. 

"I said Donna's going to be in late today. Did I say it in French the first time?" 

"No." 

Well, this is a first, Josh Lyman has been reduced to one syllable sentences. Roll up and see the wonder as it happens. 

"Where've you been anyway? I've been calling for ages." 

"About. So Donna's ok?" 

Yeah why wouldn't she be?" 

Because she's not here and she didn't call! 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes." 

You've checked right?" 

"Yes." 

"So, you've physically checked that she's alright?" 

"Yes!" 

"Is she there?" 

"Yes, Josh, she's here." 

"Could you check her again then? Except prod her bit and check her pupils?" 

"NO! What is wrong with you? Sometimes I find it hard to believe they let you help run this country!" 

"You and me both, Shelley." 

I'm shaking and there is no colour in my face whatsoever, but I'm still grinning like an idiot, right now. I must make a really strange sight. But I don't care because Donna's ok. Late for work, but ok. 

"You can expect to see Donna at 9:30, Ok?" 

"Yeah, but what's wrong?" 

"She's just not well." 

"Ok, thanks Shelley." 

"No problem, bye." 

"Bye." 

Not well. Well, I can't stop this smirk, because, Shelley and I have a code. When she says 'not well' what it actually means is 'Donna has a hangover'. 

So, if she has a hangover today, that means she had the date from hell. I know Donnatella Moss like the back of my hand. 

She was probably drinking whiskey sours on the actual date in order to try and forget that Norman was there in the first place. Then when she got home, she was so desparate to erase the evening from memory she raided the alcohol cupboard until her previous intake took effect. Vodka, I suspect. 

Of course if I'm right, which I usually am, then Norman has disappeared from our lives forever and will never darken our doors again. Shame. Although should he ever again, I'm going to find a couple of rotweilers to rip him apart. I might not even have to do that. I'll just tell CJ the guy is an ignorant, anti-femminist who was planning to get Donna to give up her job and cook and clean for him. Then I'll sit back and wait for her to bring Norman's balls back on a plate. 

You know, I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to gloat. Call me cruel but I really want to phone Donna and taunt her myself. Just as a little taster of what today will be like. Don't glare, I'm fighting this compulsion as best I can. And now I'm done. This will be fun. 

"Hello?" 

Ok, it might just be my hearing failing, but I swear a man just said that. 

"Uh, hello, anyone there?" 

THAT IS A MAN!!! 

"Um.....hi.....sorry, I must have the wrong number. Bye." 

Ok, we're gonna try that again. But this time we're going to dial slowly, carefully and watching which number we press. Right, now Donnatella, prepare for the Josh Lyman taunt parade! 

"Hello?" 

WHAT IS THIS? IT'S HIM AGAIN! I don't think it's the wrong number this time. Who is he and why is he awnsering Donna's phone? 

"Hi, is Donna there?" 

Say no, say no say no. PLEASE BE THE WRONG NUMBER AGAIN! DON'T LET HER BE THERE! 

"Sure, I'll get her for you." 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

"NO! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! It's ok, I was just checking." 

"Did you phone earlier?" 

"Me? No." 

The Deputy White House Chief of Staff rumoured to be making crank calls to his assistant? Wouldn't CJ love that one? 

"Are you sure you don't want to speak to her?" 

"I'll speak to her later, bye" 

WHO WAS THAT? Donna just lets strange guys...................... 

Norman. 

That was Norman! Who else could it have been? I just came voice to voice with the enemy! I do not believe this! 

So, she's 'not well' is she? of course not, she just slept with him! Anyone would be ill after that! I can't believe she would sleep with any guy after just 1 date! I can't believe she would sleep with this guy after just 1 date! 

And she actually got her room-mate to call and have me believe she was hungover so she could spend time with this guy! And it about 20 minutes she's gonna waltz in here as if nothing happened and she's done nothing wrong! Oh, I hope she can't even look me in the eye after what she's done to me. I hope that she .......... 

Oh this is going to be the day from hell. 

Showered? 

Yes. 

Hair Sorted? 

Yes. 

Reasonably sober? 

Yes. 

Reasonably hungover? 

Yes. 

Headache? 

Not so much. 

Sense of impending doom? 

Absoloutely. 

"Uh Donna?" 

I love the way Dave just said that. It was like he was afraid that he would awaken my inner beast, the part of me that just wants to go round beating people with my shoes. The same part of me that is that makes me scream and throw things at the TV whenever I see that Pledge ad. Y'know? The one where the kid's drawing on the furniture while his mother still smiles like the idiot she is? You know the one. 

I think I know what Shelley saw in Dave last night. Or at least what she saw in her hormonal, sexually frustrated haze. He's not bad looking in a, despite the Roger Rabbit boxers, and the fact that he's drinking beer at this time in the day. Plus, I can detect the whole 'I'm sensitive, but not gay' vibe he's giving off. 

"What's up?" 

"Some guy just called for you." 

"Who was it?" 

I'm willing to bet everything I own that it was Josh. Yes, even my one and only Versace dress. 

"I dunno, I think it was might've been your boyfriend." 

Oh please. God, if you have any mercy for me, please. Don't let it have been Norman. 

"Did he leave a message?" 

Rotweilers won't come to anything more than a couple of hundred dollars, will they? 

"No, just said he'd see you later. I offered to get you, but he got all agitated and hung up." 

Yeah. Definitely Josh. Either calling to whine or taunt me. 

"Ok, thanks." 

I worry myself sometimes. I should be really freaked at how natural I find it to have a strange man walking around the place in his boxers, drinking beer and taking my phone calls. Especially when it's not my strange man. 

This Dave could be anyone. Shelley just met him last night. Come on, this is D.C, some strange people live in this part of Washington. Y'know people who wannabe Norman Bates, people who think working in the White House would be fun, Sam, Republicans............it's endless. 

Yet, I still don't feel freaked out. 

"Donna, you ready to go?" 

"Sure. So tell me Shelley, am I going to find Dave acting as my secretary on other occasions or just today?" 

"What? Yeah, why not. Are you ready to go yet?" 

"What's the rush?" 

"You have a visitor in the living room." 

Sometimes her smirk is even more infuriating than Josh's. 

Oh my god, Josh. He's here to wind me up in person, isn't he? He's here......................... 

Hey, that's not Josh. That's Norman. I can actually feel my eye's widen by about 9 inches. I never knew eyes actually did that....... 

NORMAN IS HERE! 

"Good morning Donna." 

"Norman, what are you doing here?" 

Norman is here. 

"I came to rescue you, of course." 

Norman is here. 

"Sorry, but, what?" 

"Well I called, like I said I would and Shelley and I got talking. She mentioned that your car wasn't going and suggested that it would be nice if I drove*you to work, and because I'm a great guy, I said yes." 

"She didn't tell me that." 

"She thought it might be a nice surprise for you and it gives me a chance to spend some time with you." 

"Did she?" 

"Yeah, I've never been inside the White House, but after Shelley said that you were going to invite me yourself to see you at work, I booked the day off." 

"I don't think that it's a good idea." 

"Sure it is! Don't worry, I've got some personal days to use up." 

I'm not that far from the window and 12 storey's is not that much of a drop. If I land in the correct way, I might not even break my neck. 

"Shelley, come into the bathroom with me for a moment." 

"Why would........" 

"Now." 

"Yeah, we're ....just going into the bathroom. Norman, Dave, talk amongst yourselves." 

That's it. I'm going to do what CJ does and have a hit list. I got the first 4 positions filled already. And it it's still early in the day. 

"Shelley! What are you doing? What is he doing here?" 

"Would you relax?" 

"Not when that man is in the living room!" 

"Norman or Dave?" 

"SHELLEY!" 

"No, there's no man called.......Oh." 

"And there's noting wrong with my car, it works fine." 

"Well, for the purposes of today it's not." 

"How could you do this to me?" 

"Look, when he phoned it was 7:15! It was way too early to be thinking that straight. And by the time I remembered that you don't actually like him I'd already told him." 

What is he doing calling at 7:15, just hours after our first date? See, this is what I get for doing the nod at the end of the date. If anybody out there is inclined to do that same nod, here's some advise. DON'T DO IT! HAVE SOME RESPECT FOR YOURSELF! Because this is what you get. 

"I..I don't understand." 

"Well I had this whole plan formed in my mind. See, at first I just thought you hadn't given him a chance, so I thought that if you spent some time with him you'd change your mind. So I said your car wasn't working and that you'd casually mentioned how much you would love to take him into work one day." 

The migraine has started already. 

"I can't believe you did this." 

"Donna, if it's any consolation, the moment I said it I thought 'Oh, Donna doesn't actually like this guy, I'm stupid'." 

I'm gonna kill her. I'm kill her right now with her toothbrush. Congratulations Sam, you're no longer at the top of my list. 

"Donna, how bad could it really be? You take him in for 1 day, you shove him in 1 of the tour groups and spend the rest of the day hiding. At the end of it you tell him you don't really want to see him again. End of story." 

And after numerous stabbings with the toothbrush I'll finish her off by making her eat soap. 

"Shelley, I work at the White House, we're running a country. America is not a 9 to 5 tourist attraction!" 

It's funny how Josh's words come back at me at the strangest times. 

"What?" 

"I can't just take anyone into the West Wing of the White House for the day!" 

"You took me." 

"That was different, you are..................half normal." 

"Why didn't you just tell him you didn't wanna see him again last night?" 

"I didn't want to be rude and I ended up doing the nod thing!" 

"The nod thing?" 

"Yeah, the thing....with my head......and the nodding, y'know the nod thing!" 

She's confused. I'm confused. This is going to be a great day for the confused among us. 

"Are you 2 ok in there?" 

"Sure, Dave. Donna and I are just discussing something." 

"You've been in there quite a while." 

"It's quite a long conversation." 

Well nightmares do take a while. 

"Donna, just take him and go. It'll be fine. It's just 1 problem!" 

Yeah, 1 more to add to the list. After my hit-list, I'm going to make a list of my problems. Let's see how many of them can't be solved with the aid of savage, man-eating dog's. Very few I expect. 

Right, that's it. I'm just gonna take him with me and dump him on someone I don't like for the day. Or kick him out of the car. Whichever comes first. 

"Fine, but I hold you responsible if he's involved in an unfortunate 'accident' involving a blunt object and his shoelaces!" 

Let's get this over with. 

"Norman, are you ready to go?" 

"Dave I'm telling you, Lennox Lewis won....." 

"Norman?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Ready?" 

"Sure. Bye everyone." 

I give it 3 seconds before he starts talking about himself again. 3,2...... 

"So, Donna, did I finish telling you how about my second year in college?" 

"No, unfortunately I had to leave halfway through." 

"OK, get this. One night we all.........."

Kill me now. 

Ow. 

I hate Norman. 

Ow. 

I hate Sam. 

Ow. 

I hate Norman. 

Ow. 

I hate Shelley. 

Ow. 

I hate Norman. 

Ow. 

I hate myself. 

Ow. 

But mainly Norman. 

Ow. 

I also hate the almighty bruising that appears to be forming in the center of my forehead, which be in direct relation to my sitting here and banging it into the desk. I'm going to stop doing that now. Ok, once more. OW! I'm done. 

One day I'm going to have a meeting with the president. The President of the United States of America, leader of the free world, a man who has the power to make anything happen. In this meeting we are going to discuss having certain White House staffers electronically tagged, namely senior staff assistants and Sam. That way, we know where they are and who they're with at all times. They might be a bit pissed off at the time and the extra weight might be a bit annoying, but they'll learn to live with it. 

Perhaps it should just be Donna. No-one else seems to have these problems with their assistants. CJ doesn't have to wonder where Carol is all the time and Toby doesn't do the same for Ginger and Bonnie. Sam doesn't have to worry that Cathy is out on a date with a homicidal maniac and Leo sure as hell doesn't have to worry that Margaret is out sleeping with strangers. Only me, I'm the only one in the entire West Wing. 

But then of course their assistants do as they're told. Their assistants bring coffee. Their assistants probably don't do out and do stupid-ass things. Things like Norman. 

I'm blaming Sam for all this, it's his fault entirely. If he hadn't told me about Donna's date I wouldn't have gotten so worked up. Then I wouldn't have argued with her and she slept with him to spite me. (Yes that is my reasoning for her sleeping with him, why else?) Then I wouldn't have called this morning and spoken to Norman and........ 

Y'know what I'm going to shout at him now. Let him know how much I blame him. 

"Sam?" 

Ok, not in his office, where he should be. Working. On speeches. Speeches for the president, who does need speeches. A lot of them. Considering where we work and what we do, we don't actually spend a lot of time working. 

"Cathy?" 

"What?" 

Oooh. Ladies and gentleman I give you the ice queen, right here in the White House. Feel the chill everybody. As it happens I might ask someone else, I could lose my eyelashes to frostbite. 

"Nothing." 

"Among other things, Cathy" 

"I can't believe they let work you work in this building." 

"Cathy, go stick your head in the oven would ya? Thaw yourself out a bit before they fire you for trying to kill us all with hypothermia." 

Funny, I'm sure snakes do that exact same thing with their eyes, just before they take the head of some unsuspecting bird. Really gonna ask someone else now. 

"CJ?" 

"I don't know." 

"You don't know what I was gonna ask." 

"Where's Sam?" 

"Ok, you do." 

"Yeah, don't know. Why don't you go ask the one-man wonder that is Toby Ziegler. Look, there's our glorious leader now." 

"Ok." 

Not getting involved, I might lose several limbs. 

"Toby have you seen....." 

"Office." 

"He's not I looked." 

"I saw him go in their Josh." 

"He's not there!" 

"Did you look under the desk?" 

"No." 

"Well there you go then! What is it with you people? If it doesn't jump up and hit you, it's not there. Is it CJ?" 

"Go to hell Toby!" 

"Well, obviously you 2 have issues, so I'm going to go and leave you to... kill each other. On my way I'll give Leo a head's up on the bloodstains and put some music on so no-one's distracted by the screams. Toby watch out for her shoes, CJ watch out." 

"Watch out for what? Like I couldn't take Toby Ziegler!" 

"Well let's go CJ! We'll see who kick whose ass!" 

"Well, will just bear in mind that the walls only got repainted last week and people will have to live with the mess for another 6 months before they're done again." 

"Joshua, kneecaps? Want them intact?" 

"Yes CJ." 

"Then go!" 

"Yes Toby." 

Animals, both of them. After Donna's tagging I'm going to bring up the idea of having them caged and put in the basement. But seriously, I'm putting 20 bucks on CJ 

"Sam?" 

Don't make it worse for yourself. 

"Sam, you're under the desk." 

"No I'm... damn!" 

"Sam, get out here." 

"I didn't do anything." 

"So why are you hiding?" 

"I'm not, I like it under here!" 

"Sam." 

He looks guilty. What's he done? I'm sure everyone will be really thrilled if it's another hooker. 

"Sam, do you have any idea what you've done? This is all your fault." 

Wow. I've never seen that colour on anyones face before. And his expression has gone from guilty to the ones deer wear, right before you hit them with your car. It's a good look for him. Perhaps he could see a plastic surgeon to discuss getting it made a permanent feature. 

"I uh... I... what is my fault?" 

"What do you think?" 

"Right now Josh, it could be one of many things." 

"The thing with me and Donna!" 

So the wording there wasn't great, but what do you all want from me? But the interesting thing is Sam has gone 10 shades whiter than a bag of flour. It's no longer a good look. Now he just looks ill. 

"I never meant to tell her Josh, I swear! I thought I was talking to you!" 

"Woah! Back up Spanky, what are you talking about?" 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Telling me about Donna's date!" 

"Oh." 

"Because of you I've been worrying my sweet ass off! Especially when I found out she had slept with him!" 

"She went and slept with him anyway?" 

"What are you talking about? What did you tell her?" 

"I can't believe she slept with him, that's really too bad Josh." 

"SAM! What did you tell Donna?" 

It's probably worth pointing out that Sam has actually been working his way round the desk and is currently backing slowly toward the door. 5 seconds and he bolts. 

5 

"Josh, thing is.......uh......" 

3 

"Don't listen to me Josh, I'm high on coffee" 

"SAM!" 

1 

"Bye !" 

And now he's gone and frankly I don't have the time to chase him. Although the fact that Sam just fallen over the mail trolley on his little run, has more than compensated for it all. I don't know whether he was trying to jump it or stop before he collided with it but the result was all the same. He's just ended up on the floor, mail trolley on it's side and his legs tangled up in it. Plus everyone has gathered to laugh their asses off at him. Just try for the visual. This is so much better than the paper shredder incident. And now he's gone again. 

Now that's over, I'm going to go sit in my office and prepare my lecture for Donna. I'm going to go into full 'Lyman rant mode' for this. Usually I save it for those determied to screw us over and all Republicans, but this is a special occasion. 

"Josh." 

Damn, she's early. I don't have a speech. And she has a friend. OH my god! She brought him here! She actually brought the enemy into my office! 

"Donna." 

"Not now I have something to sort. Josh, Norman. Norman, Josh. Talk." 

"Donna!" 

"Not now! Now be nice!" 

Where's she gone? What could be more than this? An she left me with him! 

Although, I have to say, I'm incredibly disappointed. He's very good looking. (You have no idea how hard it was for me to say that) Where's the oversized glasses? The bow tie? The greasy hair? Where's the geekiness in general? None of it's there. So, now I have totally lost all faith in television. 

"So you're Donna's boss?" 

"Yes." 

I so wanted to say 'So you're Donna's jerk?' but unfortunately I do have some self-restraint. 

"Deputy Chief of Staff? Well, I'm not sure I could demean myself to being a deputy, but if that's what you want." 

I will kill this man. 

and then I will go after Sam. 


End file.
